"Just remember, a dark shadow need light to exist but light doesn't need darkness to be luminous." - Gwen Hayes
Caput XXXVIII: The Tolling of the Clock
THE sky was painted in a thousand shades of pink and red and purple and orange. Red bled into orange and pink, and pink and purple bled into blue. The red and orange sun touched shimmering golden white yellow water - the sky reflected off of the deep blue sea. The world was bathed in a golden glow that almost hurt his eyes to look at.
"Percy," the wind whispered into his ear. He turned, twisting his upper body though his feet remained planted in the white sand. His mother smiled, sadness in her eyes which reflected the movement of the sea behind him. She reached out and touched his shoulder, hand surprisingly solid. She looked like she wanted to tell him something, but couldn't.
"Matera...?" he prompted. She shook her head at him. He thought there was darkness on her face. "Matera, what is wrong?"
"I'm sorry," a melodious voice said, "she can't hear you or speak to you." Percy jumped and spun in a circle. A woman at on top of a rock in the middle of the sea, though her voice sounded like it was right next to him. Her long hair, which looked like it was made out of seawater, flowed down to her bare waist.
Percy yanked his eyes back up to her face. The sea woman had a sly smile on her lips. He looked back over at his mother was standing - but she had gone. All that remained was a warm touch and the wind playing at his hair.
"Where did she go?" he asked, turning back to the sea woman - A naiad, perhaps? The sea woman shook her head.
"Back," she replied with a shrug of her bare shoulders. "Back to where she belongs."
Percy studied his feet. He buried them into the sand, watching as the sand shifted between his toes. Odd, how tanned they were when he didn't step outside very much. He avoided the sun as much as he could since it burned his skin easily.
Back to where she belongs. That must be back in the underworld - Though why he could see her now was strange to him. But then again, this was his dream. He would dream up a naked woman and his mother talking to him, wouldn't he? Especially with Annabeth -
Nope. He was so not ready to deal with that can of worms. He shoved that thought into the box in the other corner of his mind for future examination when he felt ready to tackle it. Which was not now.
"Be brave, mortal king." The sea woman's voice startled him into looking up at her accidentally. He fixed on her eyes to block out everything else as she stepped out of the water and in front of him. "You'll need all the courage you can muster when the hour of despair strikes."
Percy frowned. "What are you talking abo-"
Moonlight bathed the room in a silver glow. Percy stared up at golden and red draperies. The shadows twisted in the decoration, taking on the shapes of the monsters that he thought had once hidden underneath his bed. The shadows looked like they were laughing at him.
Despite himself, goosebumps erupted on his arms and even the hair on the back of his neck rose.
Suddenly, he became aware of the fact that Annabeth was draped all over him - Like a starfish. He wasn't exactly sure how she did it, but she had hogged all the blankets again. (He pretended that he wasn't hogging the pillows.) And she was snoring by his ear. Loudly.
Or those might be from Annabeth.
His heart started pounding so hard he was half afraid it would burst out of his chest.
Well, this certainly wasn't a dream. Or... what happened earlier this night, for that matter. It definitely wasn't a dream. He could smell her hair - lemons - and feel it tickling his chin and his nose.
I am an idiot, he told himself for what felt like the millionth time that night. He felt even more tired than he had before he fell asleep for some reason. And the worst husband in the history of Rome. Ever. I am the worst husband ever. There is something wrong with me.
Which ... he had already established. Several times, in fact.
He banged his head against a pillow. Again.
There was no way he was going to end up falling asleep like this. Not only was he way too awake, but he was currently torturing himself. He might as well try to do something more productive. Like ... go for a walk around the battlements. Maybe even the Field of Mars. That was a good idea.
Carefully, he wriggled out from underneath Blanket Hogging Annabeth. Her hand clawed through the air, reaching for him even in sleep, and he shoved a pillow into her hand. Instantly, she hugged it, and he shook his head with a quiet chuckle. Of course she would.
He slipped into his sandals at the door, glanced over his shoulder at Annabeth one last time, and he closed the door shut behind him, taking care not to accidentally wake her up. He felt almost like he was in a dream - or he was wading through mud. His limbs were heavy as he splashed some water on his face, which had felt sticky for some reason, but he refused to contemplate the reason for that. He'd probably made Annabeth cry enough for both of them last night, though she'd tried to hide it ...
I'm an idiot. He carded his fingers through his hair as he walked through the too quiet halls. He'd never known ... He didn't even know why he'd completely lost it. He just - had.
And why was it so quiet anyway? There had been plenty of times where he'd wandered through the palace at night, especially after his mother and Rachel had died, and it had never been this silent. He couldn't hear the wind whistling through the arches, or the soft giggling of lovers in the alcoves, or the servants walking back to their rooms after a long, hard day of work.
He was close to the infirmary. Strange. It was on the the other side of the citadel - His feet must have led him here while he became lost in his thoughts. Maybe that was a good thing though ... If he could sort out which end was which in his head, maybe he could figure out what in Tartarus was wrong with him.
Bloody Hell, I hate emotions. He was tempted to hit something. Or maybe hit his head against something. That might clear things up for him - Though he was also sure that it wouldn't actually too much to actually help him straighten his thoughts.
Maybe just getting an update on this spreading epidemic would help him... At the very least, it would distract him from this, at least for a while. He really didn't want to think about it right now. He'd rather not ever but that wouldn't be fair to Annabeth.
Oh, gods, Annabeth.
I am definitely the worst husband in the history of husbands. There was no way he was going to be able to pretend this hadn't happened ... and he kind of doubted bottling it up would actually work. But seriously, what kind of man said no to sex with his very beautiful wife? Twice?
Ugggggh. I must be mad.
"My liege?"
Percy jumped at the voice and spun around. A harried-looking nurse blinked up at him with doe eyes, clutching a pile of towels to her chest. He waved, deciding that that was the best course of action in Looking Innocent. It wasn't like he'd been out setting things on fire like that one time with Jason a few nights after Rachel had died . . .
Thank the gods nobody caught me. He shuddered at the idea of his pater finding out what he'd been up to those nights so long ago - if he hadn't already known. At least Jason kept drugs away from me.
That would have been really, really bad.
"Hi?" he said, after the silence had gone on long enough to become awkward. The nurse didn't even move - so he slowly began to walk away. "You look busy - so I'll just, um..."
Gaius marched around the corner, and then he stopped short. Percy waved at him, because he didn't really know what else he was supposed to do in the middle of the night. It probably wasn't very becoming of him to be out this late without a good reason.
"Come, follow me," Gaius said, surprising him. And maybe even the girl, if the little jump she made was any indicator. "Melanie, take those to the back."
She stuttered something, ducked her head, and darted around him, practically bolting for the infirmary. Percy stared at her quickly retreating back, not exactly sure how he was supposed to feel about that. Was she scared of him for some reason?
"Don't mind my ward." Gaius fell into step beside him. "She has always been skittish, though she has a brilliant mind when she has her head screwed on straight. I've been training her to become the next physician."
Percy wasn't sure what was stranger - The idea that the old man had a ward or the fact that a Greek was training a girl to take a position of power.
"I thought you would be asleep by now," he said, following him into the infirmary. "It's so-"
He stopped. Literally, couldn't move. Something inside of him tightened. There were so many cots in the infirmary - Far more than he'd ever seen with his own eyes. Far more than he'd ever wanted to see at one time. And so many of them were filled with people. Men, women, children ... So many were coughing... Some even worse...
"What happened?" He whispered, unable to bring himself to speak any louder than that. His head spun - Oh. Air. He needed to breathe. Deliberately, he inhaled and exhaled slowly. He faced Gaius, who suddenly looked like he had aged a decade in a heartbeat.
"It worsened," he eventually said, sitting down heavily at one of the benches. The wood creaked under his weight. Percy felt too antsy to sit. And of course it worsened - Percy wasn't blind. But now wasn't the time for sarcasm. So, he waited, barely able to stand still. He tried not to glance around at the bustling of nurses flying around the infirmary.
"They just swarmed in like bees to honey a little after Lady Annabeth lost..." he trailed off. Percy closed his eyes and tried not to think of that. She hadn't been pregnant. And he apparently was terrified of physical intimacy. Fantastic. "I've been too busy to even think of informing you or your pater of these new developments. I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "No, don't be. There's nothing you can do about it now - and I understand why you wouldn't think about it." He hesitated before plunging forward. "How many fatalities? How many are sick do you estimate?"
Numbers. He could deal with numbers. He didn't want to think about anything but numbers right now. Numbers were safe. Uncomplicated. Emotionless. Detached. He could deal with numbers right now.
"I estimate I have had two hundred people come in complaining of chest pangs or stomach aches. I've have had to keep fifty overnight due to fevers and forty have had to stay longer. So far, ten have died. But with the rate this illness is spreading, I'm afraid that it will become deadlier than it already is."
Numbers were not detached or emotionless.
Percy barely caught himself from hissing (or shouting) something that he probably shouldn't know but did thanks to Jason. That would only panic people more and - Oh, he didn't give a damn about decorum right now. It could be tossed out to rot for all he cared!
Gripping his elbows, he paced in tight circles to try to get rid of the anxious energy. This was bad. This was even worse than he thought originally. If all of this had happened in a day and ... not even a full night - Oh, gods. They probably had a plague on their hands.
"We'll have to inform the public soon," he said half to himself. "There's no way we can keep an outbreak like this from them. There'll probably be panic - gods, maybe even a mob. But the senate first, and the assemblies ... Pater's going to have to assume Dictator if the senate deems this as a national crisis..." He shook his head harder. He turned in a neat pivot. "What will the assemblies do?" Then, back tracking as his thoughts caught up to him, "Forget the assemblies. What will the Senate do? They'll probably segregate the whole patrician and equestrian class from the plebeian and the enslaved class to protect themselves even though we have no idea where this is coming from and gods know how that'll cause a panic and - and - "
"Perseus!"
He stopped himself from rambling on further, trying to reign in his own panic before it could control him. Gaius was peering at him in concern. He took a deep breath to slow his racing thoughts. The last time he'd spewed words out like that had been years ago - the fact that that nervous tick had suddenly returned did not make him happy.
If Rome's people saw him like this, it would cause a panic quicker than news of an epidemic spreading.
I have had too much emotion in a day. Calm down. Calm down now. Before you cause a riot or worse. This is the type of behavior that gets you - and other people - killed.
"Sorry, sorry," he said hastily. "My thoughts got ahead of me." More like he panicked.
"Regardless, you brought up an excellent point. Perhaps we should segregate the sick from the well."
It took a moment for his mind to process the physician's words, and then he had to make sure he had understood them correctly. But no. That was plain Latin. There was no double meaning behind them. There could be no double meaning behind them.
"We don't know how many have been affected or even how long this illness –" He didn't want to call it a plague, not yet. "—has been circulating in the plebian ranks though. It could be some sleeper illness that only is just beginning to rear its ugly head now. For all we know, it could be out in the legions and the garrison towns by now."
"But it would surely help us to keep track of them."
Percy carded his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. This was too much. He'd go back to losing it over Annabeth and their love life rather than dealing with this. At least that was personal, not national.
Technically, you need an heir - an annoying voice that sounded like pater reminded him.
Shh! My problem. Not an immediate threat to Rome.
He was going mad. Maybe the last two days was just one horrid nightmare that he'll wake up from in the morning?
"I can't think clearly right now," he grumbled. "I need to sleep and try to formulate a plan. But I do think we need to tell the masses as soon as we are able."
Gaius nodded. "I agree. That should be our top priority – If we try to hide this any longer, it'll backfire on us. People are going to start noticing soon."
"I just really hope that this won't be as bad as the plague during the Civil Wars." That was a scary thought. He didn't think Rome could handle another one of those so soon. He dropped his hand, letting it hang limp by his side.
"I've never agree with words so easily. Was there anything else you needed?"
He shook his head. "No. I just went out for a nighttime stroll and ended up here." He walked to the door and looked over his shoulder. "Try to get some sleep, Gaius. You're not as young as you once were."
Gaius almost looked like he wanted to smile. Or maybe he wanted to scold him. Percy could never be sure what it was with him. "I will. You too, Perseus."
Despite himself, Percy managed a small smile at his words. If he wasn't the future heir, he'd probably pester Gaius until he allowed him to take care of him. Or maybe he would just work in a circus - He wasn't sure. The door opened and clicked shut behind him.
However, rest was the last thing he was going to do.
~...~
A hand touched his shoulder, gently shaking him into awareness. For a moment, Percy could do nothing as he blinked up at gray eyes and golden hair falling over bare, freckled shoulders.
Wait - he was just imagining the freckles. That was Annabeth. And she was wearing a chiton over her shoulders. And she looked worried, if the way she was biting her lip was anything to say.
He shook his head to clear the remaining fogginess from his mind and groaned, rolling his head slowly to get the cricks out of his neck. Maybe next time he should read in bed if he was tired instead of sitting at the desk... Then he remembered why he had been awake so late into the night and groaned.
"What's going on?" she asked softly. Hoarsely. He tugged on her hand gently, and she sat on top of his desk. Which had nothing on top of it but everything was on the floor. Why was everything on the floor? He was somewhat compulsive about keeping everything in its place and -
Oh, right. They'd knocked it all off last night.
"Percy?"
He closed his eyes and allowed his forehead to fall against her knee softly. All nighters were a terrible idea. He needed to remember that the next time he couldn't get to sleep. But her knee made a good pillow when he was dead tired which was definitely not something that was normal when he wasn't sleep deprived.
"I'm sorry," he said. He kept his eyes closed, feeling very much like a child who was too scared to go into the cellar because he could not see through the darkness at the bottom.
She didn't say anything at first. In fact, she went very, very still. Something inside of him thought that this might not be the best time to have this conversation. He was clearly half asleep and liable to make the problem worse. But he also knew that he wouldn't have the courage to bring it up with her later - and he was pretty sure that this was a problem. That he caused.
So, the way to begin fixing it was to acknowledge and apologize for it.
Apologizing was easier than acknowledging the elephant in the room.
"Did you mean what you said?" Her voice was soft, hesitant. He pulled away from her very comfy knee and sat on his chair, folding his long legs together. She plopped her feet in his lap and he very, very carefully kept his hands away from them. Now was not the time to be tempted to tickle her.
"I said a lot of things last night, Annabeth." Not all of them nice, now that he thought about it. Quite a lot of stupid though. We both lost our minds last night.
She reached out and tugged the medical tome from his hands before placing it aside from her on the desk. Then she leaned over and took his hands with her own, twisting her fingers around his and playing with them. The position was a little awkward, they both had to lean forward, but they made it work.
"You... Uh, you said you loved me."
I did? He must have, though he couldn't quite remember it.
"Did you mean that?"
He took her palms in his, stilling her movements. Did he mean it? Yes. Yes, of course he had. He did love her. He wasn't actually sure how or when that happened, but he supposed it didn't really matter, the details.
"If I didn't," he said a little wryly, "I don't think we would be in this position, Annabeth."
For a moment, neither of them said anything. There was so much they needed to sort through, but maybe that could wait for later when he wasn't half asleep.
"Why are you sleeping over-" She tilted her head, flipped the cover open. "A Thousand Herbal Remedies at the crack of dawn?"
"Those mild illnesses have become an epidemic," he explained. "I couldn't sleep last night and ... I wanted to feel like I was doing something useful."
She studied him. Her eyes were lit with a blaze of intelligence as she cataloged how he looked - He felt pretty wretched right now. Really, all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a year, or until all these problems disappeared.
"I haven't sparred with someone in a while," she said slowly. She poked his shoulder. "And that's entirely your fault."
He didn't bother with trying to hold back his smile at her gentle teasing - and her offer to distract him, at least for a little while.
"Let me grab my sword. I want to see if you've managed to pass me up yet."
She stuck her tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes. Di immortals, and this was the woman his pater had tricked him into marrying for the betterment of Rome?
"Get your scrawny podex out there," she said, hopping off the desk and cocking her hip to the side. She smirked at him, and her gaze was blazing. She tossed her head mockingly. "I'm going to destroy you."
"My podex is not scrawny," he retorted, bouncing up. She ducked underneath his arm as he lunged for her to throw her over his shoulder, and she laughed in a way that was not considered ladylike – more of a mocking sound, to him.
They'd have to talk later, but for now, this was enough.
~...~
The door creaked open slowly, so slowly, in fact, that Percy didn't hear it until a shadow fell over him and a hand rested on his shoulder. Jumping a little, he looked away from the medicinal tome he'd been thumbing through and met his pater's tired eyes.
"What did the senate decide?" he asked, closing the book and putting it to the side. Hope and fear writhed in his stomach and slid up his throat, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.
"They're going to declare Rome is in a state of emergency. The entire city will be on lock down and I will be named as dictator until the crisis has passed."
His heart sank like a stone in water at the carefully enunciated words. His pater's expression was blank - blank, but worn. He didn't know what the older man was thinking. Not that he was really sure he wanted to know.
He moved so that there was a spot on the windowsill and his pater sat, breathing heavily. The silence was too stifling for him to bare, so, keeping his voice low in case someone passed by them, he prompted, "When?"
"They'll announce it to the masses at midday. They're going to segregate the sick from the well."
"That's just going to cause more panic." Percy frowned and looked out, watching the people go about their daily business with no cares over their heads. Sometimes he honestly envied them - sometimes, he wished he didn't have the weight of a country he was expected to inherit on his shoulders. "Let me guess," he drawled, rolling his head back to look at his pater, "they're going to leave the city as soon as they can too, aren't they?"
His pater's eyes flashed and his gaze fell. Percy snorted, sick to his stomach with disgust at the selfishness. Be thou for the people - as if. They would stab a family member in the back to save their own necks.
Why me? he remembered asking Rachel once, when his mother had died. Why was he not like the others - Why was his mother gone ... Why not you? she had replied fiercely.
"Perseus, I want you to take the princess and Praetor Jason or Praetor Reyna and leave Rome until this plague passes."
Percy shook his head automatically. "No. Absolutely not." A little more fiercely - "I will not abandon my country when it needs me."
He might envy those people who had no cares, but he'd been born into this position ... So he would seize this opportunity and use it to fight for them when so many squandered this honor or used it for their own gain.
"And I will not watch my second child die in front of my eyes." His pater replied just as fiercely, startling him. Julia? He was talking about Julia? He never talked about her - just like he never talked about his mother.
He sighed and nudged his pater, making him meet his eyes again. He loved him, but he loved Rome just as much. Besides, duty came first.
"Regardless of Julia, I can't run away and pretend that this is not happening. Not only is that cowardly, but it is dishonorable. You and mater raised me to be better than that."
For a moment, his pater's eyes hardened and Percy's heart rate quickened. He wondered if his pater was going to force him to leave – Which he wouldn't listen to anyway – but then the look in his eyes softened and he sighed, shoulders slumping slightly.
"You remind me of your mater when you look at me like that. She was just as bullheaded as you." He smiled slightly before it was masked by his normal expression. Percy grinned in return. It wasn't often he was compared to her. "I cannot argue with you."
"No," he told him gently. Not on this. He wasn't a child anymore. Percy stood and placed a hand on his pater's shoulder. "You'll figure it out eventually. You always do." He said honestly. His pater nodded, once, so he turned and walked toward the door.
"Oh, and Perseus?" He glanced over his shoulder and caught his pater's gaze again. "I'm sorry about Annabeth."
He dropped his gaze. Guilt gnawed at the insides of his stomach. But this was the one thing he would lie for – If they knew the true story, she'd certainly be exiled at the very least . . . maybe worst . . . No. I'll take this secret to my grave.
"I am too," he said quietly, and he closed the door behind him with a firm click.
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Author's Note: SO! Have you guys figured out what Percy's biggest flaw is yet because I've basically just spelled it out in this chapter. xD
Right, so this chapter is going to probably cause a few questions so I'm going to be proactive -
1) At that point in time Rome was still, technically, a republic so Octavius would be considered a consul... if this was the actual Octavius/Augustus from history. Of course, Rome wasn't actually much of a republic either because the senate basically ignored the voice of the people - it was more of an oligarchy than a republic since the power resided in The Few (patricians/senators) who were the elite in society.
2) A dictator is not a tyrant in the way we think of them. One of the two consuls would be promoted to dictator, which is a position of pretty much unlimited power, in times of crisis and once the crisis had passed they were expected to step down. Some of them did, others obviously ... did not.
(I wish I knew this two years ago. It would have been awesome writing the power struggles of the late Republic. *groans*)
BY THE WAY. THANK Y'ALL FOR 100K VIEWS.